


Somewhere Now

by ladymac111



Series: Interstellar Medium [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, First Time, Light Angst, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymac111/pseuds/ladymac111
Summary: Hunk and Pidge explore how they fit together, out here between the stars.





	1. Heavy and Full Sensation

**Author's Note:**

> This story immediately follows [Interstellar Medium](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7957741) and takes place gradually over the following year. It began as a series of plotless sex scenes but then bits and pieces of context forced their way in so this is what we have now.
> 
> Rated Mature for quite a lot of sex which is described in loving detail, but which is Safe Sane & Consensual.

_-Pidge-_

 

I'm exhausted and bordering on ravenous when I stumble into the kitchen, where Hunk has Lance and Coran helping him with dinner -- he promised us something special tonight, in honor of us not actually being on Voltron alert currently, which I guess means more involved than usual.

The aroma hits me all at once, and suddenly I'm five years old and in my grandmother's kitchen, tapping my spoon impatiently on her worn table while she fills a bowl with soup. I can almost hear Matt (ten years old and impossibly grown-up) telling me to calm down.

Lance is in front of me. "You okay?"

I push past him and march right up to Hunk, who's working with a bowl of something vaguely doughy and a simmering pot. " _What_ are you making?"

He grins brightly, either unaware or uncaring of my aggression. "Matzo ball soup."

"How did--" But I don't know where I'm going with that, and I stop abruptly. "Why?" I try again.

"It's Rosh Hashanah," he says, and he's starting to look uncertain. "I thought it was a good opportunity to do something special for you."

"How do you know it's Rosh Hashanah?"

"My calendar has Jewish holidays."

I heard the door open behind me a moment ago, and someone came in, but I feel stuck, frozen. "What's ra-sha ... sha?" Keith says.

"Rosh Hashanah," Lance corrects. "It's the Jewish new year."

Keith sounds even more confused now, if that's possible. "Is Hunk Jewish?"

"I'm not, Pidge is," he says.

I finally turn around -- Keith is still sweaty from our bout, like me, and now he's looking at me like he's never seen me before. "How did I not know you're Jewish?"

"I'm not really Jewish," I protest. "My grandma's full Ashkenazi. I'm only a quarter."

"More than the rest of us," Hunk says with a shrug.

I look back over my shoulder at him. "I'm more Norwegian than the rest of you too, but that doesn't mean anything. I don't see you making lutefisk."

Lance's eyes widen in horror. " _Never_ tell Coran what lutefisk is."

Coran is looking between all of us. "You're using all sorts of words I haven't heard before."

Hunk looks up from the soup, tries to brush the matzo ball dough off his hands, but it's sticky. (How did he manage to get it exactly right?) "Pidge, did I do something wrong?"

I don't know what I'm feeling suddenly, and I wrap my arms around my chest. Lance has his hand on my shoulder in an instant. "Pidge?"

"I never -- I just --"

"Shh." He leads me to a chair and makes me sit down. "Hey, take it easy."

"I miss my family," I gasp, and the realization is awful. "I miss Matt and Dad, and my mom, and ... and when I left, Bubbe's dementia was getting bad, and I don't know if she's still okay or ... or what."

I pull my glasses off and cover my eyes with my hand, and I can feel everyone crowding around me. Lance still has his hand on my shoulder. "It's okay."

He's wrong, he's _wrong_ , but I can't speak. The flood of _not okay_ is overwhelming me and I've been resisting it for so long. Then Hunk puts his hand on my arm -- I know it's him because his touch is cool and sort of sticky and I can smell him and I'm crying now, I'm crying and I can't stop myself, and I don't want any of them to see me like this.

I shake off Lance and Hunk and I try to get up, but Keith is right in front of me, and he's holding his ground. He's the one who saw me like this before, a couple of months ago. Right now I feel like he's the only person I can stand to be around, he's the only one who gets me.

_A couple of months ago._

Come to think of it, it was _exactly_ two months ago.

 _Fuck_. "I'm okay," I choke out through the tears, which isn't exactly convincing.

"Yeah, right," Keith says, but it's gentle. He pushes on my shoulder, and I sit back down.

"I mean I'm gonna _be_ okay." I'm finally starting to get a hold of myself -- I can still feel the overwhelming despair, but with fresh perspective comes fresh coping. Plus I know a hundred percent that Keith will understand this. "I'm PMSing. I'll be okay."

In my peripheral vision, Lance rocks backwards like I physically struck him. "You get PMS?"

"Yeah, news flash, I menstruate." I turn to him with a scowl, and he wisely doesn't say anything. Hunk seems like he wants to touch me again, but he doesn't, and after a moment he heads back to his pot of soup.

"Is she okay?" Coran asks him.

"She'll be all right," Hunk says quietly. I glance over at him -- he makes eye contact, and gives me a slight nod with a hesitant smile. "It's harder when she's at this point in her hormonal cycle. Her progesterone drops suddenly and her neurochemistry goes off for a bit until she adjusts."

Coran nods his understanding. "Neurochemistry's a delicate balance."

"Tell me about it."

"How do you know so much about reproductive biology?" Lance asks, and Hunk turns and raises his eyebrows.

"I didn't sleep through AP bio in high school like you did."

"Ha!" Lance looks pleased with himself. "Joke's on you, I didn't take AP bio."

"How is that joke on Hunk?" Keith demands, and I agree with him.

"Well, because ... uh." Lance deflates all at once. "It just is."

Keith rolls his eyes. "Sure."

"Something about how Hunk went to a private high school and the rest of us did just fine with public school?"

"That's even _more_ in his favor," Keith says. "They've gotta be selective."

"Well, yes," Hunk says, "but part of why I got in is because I have native Hawaiian ancestors, they've got language and culture requirements for graduation. I took Hawaiian 4 the same year I had AP bio, plus I was directing a student choir."

"Overachiever," Lance grumbles.

I stand up. "I need a shower before dinner."

"Be quick," Hunk says. "This is almost ready."

I'm not sure if I want it. I mean, I do want it, more than _anything_ , but the feels attack was off-putting, to say the least. I try to smile at Hunk but I'm afraid it's more of a tight-lipped grimace. "Okay."

 

 

The shower calms me down considerably, and dinner is exactly as delicious as it had smelled in the kitchen; the texture of the matzo balls is even nearly correct. Shiro tries to ask me to explain Rosh Hashanah, but it seems like Hunk knows about as well as I do so he fills in, to everyone's amazement. This then turns into explaining Judaism to the Alteans, and the feels get me again like they always do when we get to the 20th Century and I remember that I have an ancestor who survived the Holocaust. (Only one -- the rest of my Jewish family were already in America by then.) I manage to weather that part of the conversation with some semblance of grace; at least I don't make a scene at the table. Bubbe would be pleased. (It helped that nobody asked me if my family was involved. Having to say it out loud might have been a problem.)

Before long we get onto a tangential topic, something about aircraft that fully engages Lance and Keith. Hunk, wonderful man that he is, immediately notices my relief and sets his hand on my knee under the table. "You okay?"

I nod, and give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. "I'm good."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's fine, it's not your fault. I'm just emotional right now."

He squeezes my leg gently, and I set my hand on top of his for a moment before he takes it away. I really wish he was still touching me, but that's not the kind of train of thought I really want to follow while I'm at the dinner table. It'll have to wait until we're alone.

 

 

Thankfully, it's not too long before we actually do get to be alone, just the two of us. Keith and Lance have gotten really handy at KP since Hunk has started doing most of the cooking, which frees him to take me back to my bunk without making any excuses to anyone.

He seems like he's being extra gentle with me tonight, which is exactly what I need. He sits on the edge of my bed and tugs gently on my hand to get me to join him, and then he leans in and _finally, finally_ touches his lips to mine.

When he kisses me like this, the clothing between us is almost unbearable. I run my hands down his sides and then slide them under his shirt, up to his waist. His skin is so warm and soft, I want _all_ of it. Wonderfully, as always, he takes my lead, sliding one big hand under the hem of my shirt and laying it on the small of my back, holding me against him. The touch of his skin emboldens me, and I pull back from the kiss just enough to whisper.

"Can I take your shirt off?"

He pauses, which isn't what I wanted, and takes his hand away, which _really_ isn't what I wanted.

"Oh," he says, clearly uncomfortable, though I'm not sure what part of this is making him feel that way.

"I really want to touch you," I say, hoping this is an explanation and encouragement enough.

"I know. I just ... I'm not used to taking my shirt off in front of people."

"I'm not people," I say gently. "I'm Pidge."

He cracks a grin, and his face softens, and my heart thumps inside my chest. "Okay," he says. "Let me do it, though, I don't want to get stuck or something."

"Okay. Should I take mine off too?"

He gives me an uncertain look. "You don't have to."

"I know, but I'm offering. Do you want me to?"

He snaps out of it and nods quickly. "Oh my god, yes."

So I sit back another couple of inches, and I reach for the hem of my shirt while he pulls his off, and we both drop them off the side of my bunk. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of my bra, which is giving me a lot more coverage than he has right now, and it's fighting for my attention with that gorgeous expanse of brown skin in front of me.

He doesn't seem to be paying attention to himself, though -- his eyes are fixed on me. "I had wondered," he murmurs.

"What?"

"What sort of underwear you wear. I mean, I didn't know -- I still don't really know what your boob situation is like. I mean, I figured you wore some kind of bra but I didn't know, you know ... um, what, exactly."

I look down. It's the same beige sports bra I've been wearing since we came out here, and by now it's getting pretty damn ratty, way past its expiration. Luckily it's the kind that's supposed to completely stop any jiggling, so even though it's worn out it still does a decent job, if I'm not running, and even then it's passable. It just doesn't hold me as firmly as it used to. I can imagine if my boobs were bigger I might not have been so lucky with it, but since I'm barely an A cup it doesn't have to work very hard. The bodysuit part of the paladin armor does the heavy lifting when I need it.

"I thought it would have thinner straps," Hunk says. "And I didn't expect this in the front."

He lifts his hand, but only to gesture at the fastening on my sternum, not to actually touch, and suddenly I wish he had. "Front closure is easy to get on and off," I say.

"That's reasonable."

I find myself reaching for the fastener, and force myself to pause. "Do you want me to take it off?"

"Uh." He swallows, and he's turning red enough that I can actually see it on his face. "Yeah, if you want to."

I give him a smile that I hope is flirtatious, and undo the six sets of hooks. He's staring as I slightly contort myself to get the bra all the way off my shoulders, and then my breasts are free to the cool air of the room. My nipples react to it right away, making me look more perky than I think I actually am, and it's a contrast to the sort of heavy and full sensation they have since I'm right before my period.

Hunk looks like he's forgetting how to breathe, and now that I can focus on him again I can make out that that his flush goes all the way down to his chest, which is nearly hairless, just a little swirl around his dark brown nipples. There's also a little bit of hair down the center line of his belly, getting thicker below his navel before it disappears from view. He's somehow even sexier than I'd anticipated.

I look back up to his face, and his mouth is hanging slightly open. I'm suddenly aware of my own nudity -- not in a way that's embarrassing, or makes me want to cover up, but ... it's like I can feel his desire, a warm blush of it over my exposed skin. My breasts feel achy, and I don't know if it's hormonal swelling or just that I want to feel him so badly.

"You can touch me," I say, and it comes out very quiet, _sotto voce_.

He shifts forward minutely, into my space, and slides one hand around my waist, warm and solid. His other hand hesitates, and then he brushes his knuckles to the underside of my right breast. I can't help leaning slightly forward, and his fingers touch my chest more firmly before he pulls them back.

"It's okay," I whisper. "I want this."

He opens his hand, and his touch is firm and warm; he cups my whole breast in his palm and caresses me and I can't stand it, I lean in and kiss him. He holds me even closer, and I put my hands on his shoulders, slide them around to his back. Touching him like this, him touching me like this, is almost overwhelmingly exciting.

The desire to climb into his lap is a lot stronger than I expected, so I decide to go for it. I've done this before, a few times; being slightly taller than him is a lot of fun, the way he tips his head back and smiles, the way he holds me around my waist, both arms strong across my back.

And now, he scoots back just a little to keep his balance while I settle on top of his thighs, holding him warm and solid between my knees. And then I lean back in, and we're touching skin-on-skin. If I slouch just a little I can even set my breasts against his body while I kiss him, and his _arms_ \-- he's doing exactly what I want, totally enveloping me in his embrace, one hand on my shoulder and the other on the opposite hip, holding me against him.

I've never felt quite so sensual, quite so possessed of myself, or quite so hungry for him. Not having the shirt in the way, being able to really feel all of his skin, get to know the body underneath and knowing that he _trusts me_ with this -- I'm not just turned on, I'm _wildly_ in love.

I hope it never stops feeling this way.

 


	2. Up Against the Wall

_-Hunk-_

 

I don't know when exactly kissing Pidge changed subtly from something that was mainly romantic, into something that's incredibly sexy. Maybe it was when it started going on for ten minutes at a time, or when we started kissing with our tongues, or when we started getting horizontal in dim lighting. Probably all of those, really. But the end result after these months of being with her is that now when our alone time gets heated, the urge to take off my pants is nearly overwhelming.

She's wanted to help me with that for a while; now and again she actually offers, but I've always said no, because even though I want it so much I find my own desire a little embarrassing. Recently I've been thinking that embarrassment is something I should try to get past, because she clearly wants me, and I want her to know exactly how much I want her.

No time like the present.

We haven't even made it to her bed yet, only taken off our shirts and then got distracted when I backed her up against the wall and covered her with kisses. But since we're still standing, this is the perfect opportunity to try something that will take a yet-undetermined range of motion on her part.

I back up just a bit, putting a few centimeters between us, and she blinks up at me, eyes big and lips parted. "Hunk?"

"Will you do something for me?"

"Yeah." She doesn't even hesitate. "What?"

I take her wrist gently, move her hand from where she had it on my neck down to the front of my pants. And I'm not looking at her face, but I can hear when her breathing changes, becomes a little rougher when she realizes what I'm asking.

I let go, I don't set her hand against the bulge in my trousers. But she crosses that last distance herself after the smallest of moments, runs her hand lightly down and then up and then down once more, and finally curls her fingers around it, squeezing very gently.

"Oh, god," I breathe.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. It just feels even better than I thought."

She laughs, a quick little breath of it, and squeezes a bit harder. I lean forward, one arm around her waist still and the other on the wall, holding myself up enough that she can still reach.

"God, Pidge."

"I love you."

I kiss her, but in my haste I sort of miss, I get her chin before her lips. She presses against me even harder, and I grind my hips into her hand. The friction is -- it's probably the best thing that's ever happened.

Pidge reaches her other arm around the back of my neck, pulls my head down into her shoulder, and I let go just a little. I stop thinking about how I might freak her out and just let myself go for it, let the sensation of her hand on my cock become my whole world.

I come all at once, out of nowhere; it's like I didn't even realize I was close and then I'm gasping and shaking and I can feel it getting everywhere in my pants. She's not shying away at all, she keeps rubbing me until it's too much sensation and I have to draw back slightly.

"Okay?" she murmurs.

"Yeah, I ... yeah."

She takes my elbow and leads me to the bed, and we both sit down and then she takes my jaw in her hands and kisses me.

 


	3. Skin on Sweaty Skin

_-Pidge-_

 

Hunk and I haven't had time to be alone together in days and days, so when our saving-the-universe schedule finally lets up a little he's as eager as I am to retreat to my bunk and get to kissing. Last time went so well for him, I'm sure he's eager to do that again, even though he complained a tiny bit about having to clean up after. And I loved it -- I felt so sensual, so _powerful_ , bringing him to climax with my touch. I loved the way he melted into me afterwards, how he held me so tenderly for the rest of the evening.

Today is less tender, and a little bit frantic. I let him pull my shirt off, and then I remove his before he wraps me up in his arms and presses open-mouthed kisses to my neck that get my heart absolutely pounding. I wiggle out of my bra just in time for him to drag his face lower, grazing his teeth over my right nipple.

I pull him back onto the mattress and roll over with as much force as I can, trying to pull him on top of me; he seems to sense my playful mood and comes along with a smile, though his expression turns to one of surprise when I shuffle my legs out from underneath him, spread my thighs and let him settle his hips between them. I know I'm blushing, and I feel hot all over, and I get a sense that having him between my legs is the only thing that'll give me any relief right now, even with both of us still wearing pants. I want him so badly....

"Are you sure?" he whispers.

"Yes. Is this okay?"

"Yeah, I was just checking."

And then he gets just a bit heavier, relaxing fully on top of me, and I lift my hips up into him. He leans down and kisses the side of my neck, then shifts his weight, pressing his erection up against me so intimately that I feel like I could come on the spot. I don't, but it's a close thing.

"Oh my god," he breathes.

"Yeah." I try to roll my body underneath him, press into him even harder, and he seems to get the picture and does the same.

Fuck, this is what happened that first time, but even more. I don't know how it's been so long since then. I feel like I've never felt as good as I do right now, underneath him, squeezing him between my legs and my mind hazy with desire.

He kisses me, lips open, pushing his tongue against mine, and a shiver of lust slides through my whole body before it all pools up between my legs, right where he's pressing into me. A moan spills out of me, muffled but still loud. Hunk hums into my mouth, presses his hips into me even harder.

He's clinging to me when I come a few minutes later, his breath as ragged as mine, and when I let my arms and legs relax he shifts his posture on me, moves a bit higher so his still-hard cock fits in the little groove between the top of my thigh and my abdomen. And he's still going strong, his breath hot on my cheek as he finally loses control and cries out against my skin.

I hold him as tightly as I can, my arms strong around his shoulders, my fingertips pressing into his flesh and one leg around his hip, holding him against me with all my strength because I want to _consume_ him, I want us to merge together in some kind of Pidge-and-Hunk single being where we can just keep feeling this way, pressed together skin on sweaty skin, satisfied.

 


	4. Alcor and Mizar

_-Hunk-_

 

Pidge has these two moles on her left breast, right over her heart, one bigger and one smaller -- like Mizar and Alcor. Though I can never remember which of those is the bigger one.

I only found out about Pidge's moles recently, a few weeks ago, maybe a month -- and I'm completely obsessed. Since then we've gradually removed even more clothing and become even more familiar with one another's bodies. And while everything has been fantastic, nothing has been quite as delightful of a surprise to me as those two little spots of pigment.

Right now, I'm trying to focus on them, in a possibly-futile effort to make myself last a bit. She's sitting cross-legged in front of me, naked above the waist (wearing her underpants and, inexplicably, socks) and paying exactly zero attention to herself in favor of exploring my genitals with her hands, light touches that are clearly all about her own curiosity and not designed to excite me. She's doing it anyway. I've been rock-hard for about twenty minutes, hence the trying to distract with Alcor and Mizar.

I'm half-sitting, reclined back into my pillow, and completely naked with her for the first time. When we started I let her take off my shirt and pants, and then I took off hers -- which isn't exactly _new,_ though we've only done it twice before -- but I chickened out when she got to the underwear and did that myself. Then she laid me back on my bed and climbed between my knees and started her investigation.

I was looking at her face before, but her intent focus and the way she kept forgetting to breathe was getting me more turned on than I'm prepared to be right now. So I'm looking at her boobs instead, and thinking about the scattered dark spots of pigment in her otherwise pale skin, trying to remember enough genetics to consider the mechanism that made her nipples light rather than dusky. It's scientific enough that I'm not in danger of suddenly coming all over her.

She tugs on my foreskin with her fingertips, drawing a deep gasp out of me -- I'm not in danger of suddenly coming all over her _unless she does something like_ _that._ "Shit, Pidge, take it easy."

"Sorry." Her voice is breathy, and my cock twitches in her hand. "Just ... well, you're not Jewish." She wraps her fingers around me and slides them down towards the base, pulling back the foreskin, exposing my head. She's looking at it closely, and I close my eyes and grit my teeth when it throbs and a little bead of moisture forms at the tip. I don't do that very much; not that I've noticed, anyway, but it's not like I pay attention to it when I'm just trying to come by myself. But right now I'm more turned on than I've been in ... I really don't know. Ever? And it's frustrating, because I really want to last for her, to let her do her investigation, but I also _really_ want to come, my body is absolutely _screaming_ at me that this is the best I've ever had and _what are you waiting for_.

Her hand stills and her grip relaxes. "Are you okay?"

"Hah." I do my best to open my eyes, but it's not easy. "Yeah, no, I'm great, I just ... I'm super turned on. I'm trying not to ... yeah."

"You can stop trying," she murmurs. "I want to see it. I want to see you come."

And I guess I knew that, but hearing her say it out loud, in so many words, is something else entirely. "If you want to see, it might work better if I helped."

"Yes. I want you to show me what you like."

I reach down and slide my fingers around my cock -- it looks a lot less huge in my hand than it did in hers. She trails her fingers over mine, like she's trying to learn the shape of my grip, and that intense focus is back on her face.

"Hang on." I let go of myself, lean forward and kiss her; she makes a little surprised noise in her throat and then presses her face back into mine. When I lean back again a moment later we break apart with a mutual gasp, and she looks bemused and so lovely it almost hurts.

"What was that?" she says through a crooked smile.

"I want you to know that this isn't just sex," I say quietly, and I don't know why I'm suddenly nervous. "And it never will be, for me. It's never only physical. Every time we do this it's because I'm totally and completely in love with you."

The smile broadens into a full grin, and she climbs over my leg to my side, and pulls me into another kiss, a gentle one. "You're so beautiful," she breathes. "Everything about you. I love you so much."

I let my right arm wrap firmly around her back and dip my face towards her. "Pidge..."

"Show me how you touch yourself." Her breath is hot on my cheek now. "I want to see you come."

I let my eyes stay closed, and tip my head back into the pillow. I take myself in hand again, begin stroking firmly; I'm so turned on already it's not going to take much....

Pidge presses even closer to my side; her hair is tickling my cheek, and her bare skin in direct contact with mine would almost be distracting if it wasn't so undeniably sexy. Her fingers touch the back of my hand again, and imagining that it's her touching me is easier than breathing.

And that's all it takes.

Even through the bliss of my orgasm taking me, I can feel that she flinches when I come, hear the catching of breath in her chest as she startles. It occurs to me that she may have never seen this before, and with that realization another wave of pleasure hits me, and I squeeze myself hard to pound through it the way my cock is screaming at me to do.

I lose track of Pidge for a moment, lost in the intensity my climax, but she's right here when it fades away and I'm aware of my surroundings again, pressed against my side, her hand cool on my thigh. My fingers are slippery with my come, and I can feel the spots where it landed on my belly too. I open my eyes.

She meets my gaze and grins. "That was something."

I feel deep, like the ocean; heavy and content. "Yeah, it was."

"Was it...?"

"Are you seriously gonna ask me if it was good?"

Her face darkens with a blush almost immediately. "I was, but you make a good point."

"It's never been quite like that before."

"I thought so too. I mean, not right now -- I meant back ... at my birthday."

I can't begin to parse that sentence in my current mental state. "What?"

"Sorry." She shakes her head. "I meant, when I came with you for the first time, on my birthday. Doing it with you felt really different than doing it alone, and I bet it's the same for you."

"I mean, it's not so much that you helped, because you've gotten me off before. I think it's more that I actually got to feel your skin this time. Your bare hand on me. That was really different."

She gets a thoughtful look. "Oh wow, yeah."

I don't think I need to clarify that it was different in a good way. "Speaking of you...."

"Hah." She tips her face into my neck. "Yeah, I'm pretty close already."

I haven't even touched her, and I really want to reciprocate. "Do you want me to...?"

"No, I think, just--" She shifts her hips slightly. "Yeah, just hold me like this, and I'll..."

Her voice trails off, but she reaches down and slips her hand under the waistband of her underwear. And I wish I could see what she's doing, because her reaction is instant: a breathy moan, a full-body tremble, her legs squeeze together even as her arm works faster.

I hold her tight and kiss her hair and then she's gasping -- she really was close, to get there so quickly even with her wrong hand. Or maybe I'm projecting; I have a strong handedness in bed, but I don't know enough about her yet to know if she's the same, this is the first time I've seen her do this herself.

It's also the first time I've seen her face while she's having an orgasm, and ... I'm a little glad I never knew before because it's so arousing that I won't be able to stop thinking about it for days, probably. She's got her eyes squeezed shut, chin tucked down to her chest, teeth bared in an expression that's almost a grimace, and she's gasping deeply. As the seconds go by the gasping turns into a loud moan, and she presses her face into my chest while her hips jerk against the side of my leg.

I hold her firmly as she winds down, breathing hard on my skin, twitching and gasping now and again. Finally she lets out a deep sigh, extracts her hand from between her legs and wipes her fingers on the side of her leg.

"Yours isn't as messy as mine," I say.

She laughs, sudden and full of joy. "No, it isn't. But I need to go pee anyway, I seriously don't want to have to explain a UTI to Allura."

I snort a laugh at the image of Allura getting way more personal information about Pidge than she probably wanted. "Yeah, I should clean up too. More cuddles after?"

She leans over my chest and catches my lips in a little kiss. "Absolutely."

 


	5. Uncomfortably Mortal

-Pidge-

 

There's a part of me that feels like maybe I ought to be used to having brushes with death, by now. It's unfortunately an unavoidable part of our mission, of the whole reason we're here, why we're doing all of this. It's always worth it, of course; I am willing to lay down my life for this mission if that's what it takes.

But those experiences always leave me feeling deeply unsettled, uncomfortably mortal. I wish they didn't, and I do try to pretend like I'm not shaken, but I know nobody really believes me. Hunk and Lance are always super open when it happens to them, and they help each other hash through it; Keith is like me, bearing it in a solitary way, though I get the sense that he may be letting Lance help him with it these days. And Shiro has something going on with Allura that both of them are extremely tight-lipped about, but they seem to be coping with the near-death thing well.

Today it was just me and Hunk who got caught in it. I can still feel the grinding of my lion against his like it was my actual bones, and I'm afraid I'll never be able to stop remembering it. There was a minute I actually thought we were done for, before Lance arrived, with Shiro and Keith right behind him.

But that minute of knowing I was dead doesn't leave my head as quickly as the actual danger went past. Hunk is clearly badly shaken too, and I'm not sure if the others know exactly how close it was for us.

When we get back our team debriefing is quick. We were out there for an insanely long time, probably a couple of days, and we're all completely exhausted to the point that we don't even really know what time it is, if it's day or night or the end of the world.

Shiro prescribes sleep, and with that, we're done. Lance takes Hunk's arm and murmurs to him for a moment; Hunk nods, murmurs something back, and squeezes Lance's shoulder before he turns away. His face is holding something fathomless, and he reaches for me.

I take his hand and hold as tightly as I can, focusing on the floor under my feet and the warmth of his grip and the slight odor of sweat coming off him that isn't half as strong as mine. We stay like that for a minute while the others slowly leave, Keith and Lance together, then Allura with Shiro right behind, and finally Coran who lingers for a moment before he seems to decide to leave us to one another.

Hunk's face finally cracks, and he takes me in his arms with such force that it squeezes the air out of me for a moment. I wish we weren't wearing our armor, so I could really feel the full force of his grip, so that I could have it as an excuse for the fact that I can't seem to catch a full breath. I cling to his back, and he's crying voicelessly and I'm feeling so much that I'm more emotion than flesh. I could evaporate, leaving just a puddle of tears that seem to be coming from nowhere.

After a little bit Hunk pulls back. His face is wet and red and there are tears clinging to his eyelashes, and I put both of my hands on his cheeks. "I don't want to be alone tonight," I whisper.

He squeezes his eyes shut and nods. "Me too."

"My bunk?"

"Okay." He heaves a deep breath and blinks his eyes open, dropping tears onto his face. "How about you come with me for a minute and I'll get changed and grab my pillow, and then go to your room?"

"Sure, yeah." As long as I don't have to be without him.

We walk the corridors close enough together that his hand keeps brushing me, my shoulder bumps his arm now and again. Armor off, clothes on; in his room he changes into his gold pajamas without any kind of self-consciousness about his nudity, just business, just me happening to be there and seeing him in his underwear. Somehow this seems even more intimate than any of the sexual encounters we've had.

Hunk grabs his pillow and toothbrush and then we're in my room. He lies down while I change, and then I go into the bathroom to wash my face and stuff as fast as I can.

He goes in as soon as I'm done, and while I'm waiting I start to bed down, though I realize now that I don't really know how this is going to work. We've never spent the night together before and we didn't plan this at all, it just kind of happened. And I'm suddenly awkward but I want this more than anything so I'll have to make it work I guess.

He gets back out and comes to sit beside me on the bed. "I can be by the wall."

"Sounds good." It's a start, which is what we need right now.

I move, and then he moves, and we arrange ourselves under the blanket. I let him pull me into his chest and I press my face against his heartbeat, and then he starts to cry. It's not loud, or forceful, but it's relentless, constant, deep. I let it wash over me, let it draw out whatever this is inside of me. We go into a trance together, dragged along while we cope with being alive.

Eventually it stops. Or runs out, I'm not sure what really. I think there's more in me but when Hunk is done I'm done too, and I don't think I can get it out on my own.

Sleep doesn't come as quickly as I'd hoped. But it seems like it doesn't for him either, so there's that. Eventually I roll over, and he snuggles up behind, just touching my back with his arms and his knees against the backs of my thighs -- and I finally feel heavy enough to fall asleep.

 


	6. Want To Taste You

_-Hunk-_

 

The first night I spent with Pidge was the beginning of something a little bit different in our relationship.

I feel like we know each other so much better now, having slept side-by-side; it doesn't make a lot of sense, but my heart tells me it's true. It comes out as casual intimacy between us: little brushes of fingers throughout the day, un-self-conscious cuddling around the others, brief kisses for no reason. And when we're alone together, the deep kisses and sensual touching are more sure, more confident. It's like we both know now that any boundary is negotiable, that anything is on the table.

We haven't slept together again, though. It was important that night, when we were both so fragile, but the bed was really too narrow for both of us to be comfortable. It turns out that Pidge and I both like to spread out in our sleep, and she gets too hot if I'm all up on her.

That hasn't stopped us from spending time together not-sleeping in bed, though. If anything we're doing it more now, pretty much every evening, and our clothes are coming off nearly every time.  After we spend an evening together in my room, my bed smells like her through the night.  I love it.

Tonight we're in her bunk, stripped down to our underwear, and I'm lying halfway on top of her. When we're like this I'm always sort of worried that I'm being too heavy, but she's said specifically that she likes this (and from her reactions it's clear that she likes it a _lot_ ) and I like it too, so I'll keep doing it. I love having _this much_ contact with her, from our faces all the way down to our knees.

After a few minutes of kissing I've satisfied the part of me that was touch-starved, and I yield to the part of me that's curious about her body: I drag my lips from her mouth across her cheek, over the edge of her jaw, and nibble down her neck to her shoulder. She hums happily, and gasps softly when I scrape my teeth lightly over her collarbone.

I lift myself up and shift off of her so I can continue moving down. Her breasts are next, which is a favorite spot for both of us; I start with pressing a kiss to the binary pair of moles, then kiss around underneath the breast, spiraling my way to her nipple. With my other hand I caress her right breast, and she presses her chest up into me with a pleased sigh.

But even though I love this, I have other goals this evening. I trail my lips from her breast down the side to her ribs, across the little dip of her waist to her hip, and then up and across her belly. She's realized now what I'm doing, I think; her breath has gone ragged and her fingers are touching my hair lightly, pushing tentatively against my scalp, like she's afraid to ask me to go lower.

Her skin is soft here, even though she has barely any fat underneath, and her body rises and falls as she breathes. "Do you know what I want to try?" I murmur.

Her breath catches for a second. "Yes."

"May I?" I press a firm kiss to the skin low on her belly, only centimeters above the top elastic on her underwear, and she quivers beneath me.

"Go on," she breathes.

So I pull them down over her hips, and she shifts her weight so they slip over the curve of her ass (and I brush my fingers along that skin when I get the opportunity), and they slide down her thighs and reveal the part of her that the more primitive bits of my brain have been absolutely _dying_ to see.

She kicks off the underwear and lets her thighs spread almost casually, exposing herself to me, completely naked. "There."

The smell is intoxicating. I knew that she would have a smell, but I never really imagined what it might be like. And ... I find I don't have words to describe it. Maybe it's just that I'm too busy experiencing it to really think.

Her pubic hair is about what I expected, medium-dark and coarse, and the labia are not really a surprise either -- I have seen pictures of vulvas before, and hers is typical, I suppose, if you can define such a thing.

I look up at her face. She's watching me, eyes hooded but pupils wide, and sporting a light blush on her cheeks. Her lips are shiny and slightly parted. "Well?"

"I want to touch you."

"I want you to touch me. I'll tell you if I want you to stop, okay? Just ... do whatever you want."

I'm pretty sure this is the most intimate thing I've ever done, and it's absolutely the most sexual. I shift close and reach in with just one finger, brush it delicately along her folds, starting near the top and ghosting off when I get lower. She twitches when I stop. "That tickles."

"Sorry."

"You can be more firm."

"I'm trying, give me a minute."

I touch her again, with enough force to actually move the flesh a little, not just brushing it, and she sighs. Emboldened, I touch her again, with two fingers now, sliding them down one fold, and then the other side, and then tentatively pushing open the middle.

"Hold on," she says suddenly, but before I can be anything other than confused she's shifting and throwing her near leg over my shoulder, opening herself fully before me. Her left knee is leaning warm on my right shoulder and I'm _right here between her legs._ "This okay?"

"Oh my god yes." Maybe I sound overly eager? But eagerness is definitely appropriate right now.

"Okay, good." Her right hand appears, and her slim fingers lightly stroke herself in a way that's astonishingly sensual. (Maybe she is right-handed in bed after all.) "Try like that."

I do my best to imitate her movement, and the sound that comes out of her tells me I did it very right. Then she does something slightly different, and I imitate again, with even better results.

We keep doing that for a bit, until she eventually stops showing me things, just rests her hand on her thigh, fingers gripping gently in time with my movements. I try to do the same sorts of things like she was showing me, things I know feel good for her, and while I'm doing it I try to get a better look at things, at the shape of her labia, of her clitoris swollen inside its hood -- she gasps deeply and pushes her hips into me when I rub my fingers along either side of it -- of the very deep fold that I know is the entrance to her vagina, but I'm not quite ready to touch her there. Not just yet.

This goes on for a while; I really have no idea how long, but I love every moment. Her anatomy is endlessly fascinating, the folds of skin, the way she moves, the way she _smells_.

"I want to taste you," I murmur, and she groans happily.

"Oh, yes please."

I lean in the last few inches and press my lips to her labia, right on top of her clitoris, and I almost don't hear the sound she makes because I'm so overwhelmed by the flavor of her. She's musky and sweet, like the scent but so much more, and my mouth is actually watering with desire. I press my tongue gently against her, sliding it over everything my fingers were exploring a minute ago. _God,_ this is incredible....

I don't really know what I'm doing, just kind of feeling around with my mouth, but she seems to be enjoying it. Well, _enjoying_ is probably a weak word, if the sounds she's making are any indication. This whole experience is ... magnificent. I decide to give in to the direction my lust is pushing me, and I let my tongue explore lower bit by bit until I can dip it into her vagina. My nose presses into the folds folds near her clitoris, and my face is getting very wet now, a combination of my saliva and her lubrication. The smell and taste of her is overwhelming my senses and I'm loving every moment while I move my tongue inside her.

It's not long before her hips start moving under my face, pressing into me; I change my attention from her vagina up to her clitoris again which gets me a deep gasp, and her hand is on on my head, her fingers twisting in my hair, but not hard. I try sucking on it, very gently, and she moans out loud.

"Oh, fuck..."

I've been learning the different tones of her swearing, and this is definitely a good one. I reposition my mouth and do it again, and the next sound she makes isn't even words at all. She's very close to her climax now, _very_ close. I increase my energy, meeting the motion of her hips, and she cries out right as everything under my tongue begins to tremble.

I finally back off when her hand on my head relaxes, and I lift myself off her, albeit a bit reluctantly. "I've wanted to do that for so long," I whisper against her thigh.

She groans, and then it morphs into a little laugh. "You're pretty damn good at it."

"Thanks." I kiss her leg, and she twitches away with a little ticklish sound.

"Hunk?"

"Yeah?"

"I think -- um." She swallows audibly. "I think I could go again."

I pick myself up so I can see her face. "Right away?"

"Yeah. And, um. Would you finger me this time? I want you inside me."

My heart thumps in my chest. "Show me."

She shifts, scooting a little higher up on the bed so the pillow props up her shoulders. Her face is beautiful, flushed dark with desire, and her hair is wild and curly. "Here, come up here a little."

I move her leg so I can crawl up beside her. Once her arm is around my shoulders she leans down and kisses me with a surprised and pleased hum, then breaks off me with a little gasp.

"You taste amazing," I whisper.

"Oh my god, I really do."

I laugh, and I feel a little giddy. "You didn't know?"

"I mean, I've smelled it, but I never tried tasting."

I stretch up, and she kisses me again. "Can I be inside you now?" I say.

"Yeah." She takes my hand and guides it between her legs. "Use your middle finger."

I lick my lips; they still taste like her. "How?"

"Just ... gently." She takes my finger and slides the tip between her labia, and then ... _deeper._ It's very wet here, and even softer and silkier, and so warm--

"Oh, yeah," she breathes. Her hand is on the back of mine now, guiding me gently, and she spreads her legs a bit wider as I press farther inside.

The softness is really astonishing to me, for some reason, like something this soft is only barely solid -- a hypothesis borne out by how amazingly wet she is, and I know this tissue is a mucous membrane, further blurring the distinction. And then as she continues urging me inside, her vagina seems to curve upwards, and I realize that the tip of my finger is so far inside that it's past her pubic bone. I press up against it experimentally, and a sound rips out of her, more groan than word.

" _Fuck..._ "

"Okay?"

"Oh fuck yes, do that again."

I do, and I add a little sliding in and out. She makes the noise again, even more drawn-out; I'm so aroused, and so in love with her. I lean my forehead into her breast, which I barely even noticed was right here, my two favorite moles, and my head rises and falls with her deep breathing.

The texture here, this deep within her, feels a little bit different. I'm not nearly coherent enough to figure out what's different about it, but it's enticing, and when I rub against it the sound of her pleasure resonates bodily through both of us.

She says something then, but it takes me too long to figure out that she's speaking so I miss the words. "What?"

"I want another finger."

My cock throbs, and it takes me a minute to figure out the logistics of what she's asking. I pull out of her most of the way, then press both my middle finger and my fourth finger back inside, slowly. She feels tight now, and she's gasping deeply, her hand still pressing on the back of mine, urging me deeper. I'm in about as far as I can go but I curl my fingers inside of her like I did before.

"Oh fuck," she says, her voice catching. "Fuck, Hunk, you feel unbelievable."

I press a distracted kiss to her skin -- to the soft underside of her breast, where she always smells like sweat. The taste lingers on my lips. "I love you," I murmur. "God, Pidge, I love you."

"Fuck, I love you too." She rolls her hips, presses me deeper inside her, then takes her hand off the back of mine. "Keep doing that," she instructs, gasping, and insinuates her slim fingers underneath my palm -- she's touching her clit.

Her vagina clenches around my fingers, and she makes a sound from deep in her chest, one that's so profoundly erotic it's all I can do not to give in and lose myself in her. The sound resonates in my head, my shoulder, where I'm pressed against her; I open my mouth against her breast, kissing but without any sort of direction, just needing to touch her. I find her nipple with my tongue somehow, and she gasps, which pulls it away, out of reach. I can't focus enough to find it again.

God, I want her so badly. I had thought that having her like this was what I wanted, but it's not enough by half -- I want her completely, I want it to be my cock inside her and not just my fingers. I can't _have_ her like that right now, though -- but I do have this, and it's so much better than I let myself expect.

Focus, Hunk. My penis doesn't control me (and it never has before, this _lust_ I have for her is something rather new) and this just as we are now is objectively _amazing._ My face on her chest, smelling her, tasting her, being _inside_ her, giving her such clear pleasure....

She's shifting, and it takes me a minute to understand but then she's pulling on my shoulders and twisting to kiss me again, sloppy and desperate and moaning. All too soon her mouth breaks away, her head tips back, but she's trembling and gasping and then I _feel it,_ inside her, the rippling squeezing that's too fast and too strong to be voluntary. _Her orgasm._ Her second one in only a few minutes, incredibly.

I don't know how reliable my sense of time is right now but it feels like it goes on forever, and she ... every moment I think she must be nearing the end of it, she keeps going. It seems impossible and she's making so much noise, so much more than she's made before.

But then she starts to relax, her breathing smooths out, the groaning turns into a contented sigh. I don't know if I should pull out but her hand is still right there below mine, and I figure I should just do what she asks me to at this point.

I'm so turned on, my skin feels electric. Like if something scraped against me I'd catch fire. I want to bury my cock inside her and never leave, and I'm pretty sure that if I asked her she'd say yes, that she wants it as desperately as I do. Not simply rolling on top of her and doing that is taking more control than I would have thought. But we haven't worked out contraception, and there's no way in hell we're going to do _that_ unless we're certain we won't get pregnant.

Thinking of that is enough of a cold shower that I no longer feel flammable. I'm still almost painfully hard, pressing against the side of her leg through my underwear, but I have patience again.

"Okay," she murmurs, giving my hand a gentle push. I pull my fingers out of her carefully.

"Fuck," she sighs, under her breath, and presses her thighs together. "That was ... that was even better than I thought it would be."

"My fingers aren't too big?"

She grins at me. " _Too_ big? Not at all. The right big." She shifts her weight, rolling towards me; she kisses me and presses her hand against my cock, and when she speaks again her voice is lower, husky. "You're a big guy, and I like it."

Well, shit -- that officially ruins every time that Keith or Lance will ever call me _big guy_ again. Pidge wins it forever.

"Swap," she says, tapping me with the back of her hand. "It's your turn now."

My mouth goes dry. "For real?"

"Yeah." She nods and licks her lips. "I want to taste you, too."

"It's not exactly good," I say, but I shift over so I can recline against her pillows. "It's bitter."

"You've tasted it?"

"I was curious."  I shimmy out of my underwear in an awkward way, and then drop them onto the floor.  I've never cared less about my nakedness.

"I'm curious too. Though--" She hesitates, sits back on her heels; she's still totally naked, kneeling in front of me on her bed, and she looks down at her hands on her knees. "I'm not sure if I want you to -- to come in my mouth."

"That's fine," I reassure her quickly. "I don't have any special -- I don't really care. Do whatever you feel like."

"Warn me before you come?"

"Yeah, I will. Promise."

She looks up at me through her fringe and gives me that lopsided smile. "Right. Okay then."

My heart flutters. "Okay."

Her tongue darts out to lick her lips very quickly before she shifts, arranging herself sort of on her side between my legs, one arm draped over my thigh. She rakes those fingers through my pubes briefly, and then grazes my balls with the knuckles of her other hand. I take a trembling breath, and she glances up at me, checking, before she returns her focus to my genitals.

She wraps her hand around my cock, and her fingers are very slightly cool. I have to shut my eyes; the anticipation is overwhelming. So I feel her lean down, rather than seeing it happen, and a moment later her lips touch the head, just a little press of a kiss. Her breath is warm and moist on my sensitive skin. She licks it, slow and wet, twisting her tongue around it a couple of times before she takes it into her mouth.

It's nothing like I imagined; apparently in my imagining I'd forgotten that she has teeth. Which isn't unpleasant, not at all -- she's not biting, she's barely touching me with them, but they're there. There's a tiny edge of danger.

And then she sucks, just a little, and an awkward grunt escapes me as I'm surprised by how _amazing_ it feels, how quickly she pushes me halfway to climax.

Her mouth lifts off. "Okay?" She sounds breathless.

I force myself to open my eyes and look down at her, and it's hard to get them to focus. "Great."

She leans back down and _oh my god_ watching the tip of my cock disappear into her mouth is possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen. I lean back again and shut my eyes with a groan, pressing my hands flat on my thighs. It's hard to not roll my hips up towards her, to hold myself back from trying to just fuck her pretty little mouth.

I'm sort of shocked for a second that I would think a phrase like that, but -- _damn_ if it isn't true. Her mouth is gorgeous all the time and I absolutely love having my cock in it and I want to come in her very, very badly. But also I love her, and if she doesn't want that then I'm not going to do it.

She's doing something, and I'm not sure exactly what it is but it feels incredible; I lose control for a second and press my hips up, but since she's draped over my leg I just wind up lifting her. She laughs a little, vibrating around me for a moment before she takes her mouth off me.

"That good, huh?"

"Oh my god." I'm panting but I'm beyond being embarrassed.

And she goes right back down, even more eager now; in her haste she bumps the head of my cock moderately hard against her molars and I shudder with pleasure. God, that shouldn't be that good, but it really, _really_ is.

She's working me with her hand now too, fairly tight pressure like I've showed her, quick up and down strokes around the base while she devours the upper half of it. I can't think at all, all I can do is feel, ride out these sensations -- and then I realize with a start that I've been so busy enjoying it that I didn't notice how close I am to coming in her mouth. I'm very close, I'm _insanely_ close, and the gasp I have to take pushes me even closer.

"Oh god -- fuck, Pidge, I'm gonna--" I shove her back, which takes quite a bit of my strength, and then I grab myself and pull once, twice, and then I'm coming and I'm so disoriented from pleasure I don't even know which way is up, don't know if I'm making a mess, and I'm too turned on to care even the tiniest bit.

Pidge's fingers are digging into my thighs when I come down, panting and still shivering from the intensity of the sensation. I pick my head up to try to take stock of the situation: she's still leaning over me, looking very interested, and there's a couple drops of my semen on her face, though most of it seems to be on my hand and my belly.

A hysterical little laugh bubbles up inside me. "You got something," I say, gesturing at my own face.

She looks up at me with a wicked grin, then wipes it off with the back of her wrist. "I know."

 


	7. It's Not Vulgar, It's Yiddish

_-Hunk-_

 

I don't know what Pidge is working on. She joined me in the lab about an hour ago, didn't say anything but hello, then gave me a little kiss on the cheek and got her computer out around the corner of the table from me.

I've been building a circuit that I found in a battered manual in here, as part of my ongoing quest to get to know Altean parts and terminology so that I don't sound like an idiot when I try to talk to people about it. I've been crazy lucky that soldering technology seems to be universal, and the alien tools feel actually comfortable in my hands. Overall it's been going okay, with Pidge's Altean language studies helping out, though a lot of the very technical stuff we've had to figure out for ourselves -- which one time led to Keith walking in right as I said "oh, it's a _diode_!" really loudly, and he turned on his heel and walked out. Pidge had a good laugh at that one.

She's been in here with me for a while, both of us just working quietly. She startles me when she clears her throat softly.

"So, uh. Pretty soon I'm going to have to have that excruciatingly awkward conversation that Allura's been trying to start ever since she found out I have a twat."

"Jesus, Pidge!" I laugh and rub my forehead, leaning back from my soldering. "You're so vulgar sometimes."

"Wait, what?" She's actually taken her attention fully away from her computer now, she's leaning very sideways on one elbow and watching me. "You mean _twat_?"

"Yes, what else would I mean?"

"Honestly it's one of the less disgusting words I've heard for it, what would you call it?"

"Uh." I don't know how she roped me into this conversation, or how she did it so suddenly. "Do I have to call it anything?"

She grins and scoots over, leans in for a little kiss; I hold the hot iron carefully out of her way. "I'll look forward to seeing what you come up with to get around it."

"What conversation are you going to have with Allura?"

She rolls her eyes. " _Girl_ stuff. I need new bras, this one is way beyond old and desperately needs replacing. And I want to talk to her about hormonal contraception."

I inhale too fast, and choke for a second on my own saliva. Pidge raises her eyebrows at me while I cough, but doesn't say anything until I've regained my breath. "You're going to ask Allura for birth control?!"

"Yeah?"

"But then she'll know we ... that."

She rolls her eyes. "Hunk, everybody already knows."

"They _suspect_ , now they'll know for sure. I just ... I wish this could be just between us."

"Sweetie," she murmurs, and my heart thumps in my chest -- she almost never uses pet names, only when she's feeling really unbearably sentimental. "We're not going to give anyone any details. And it's only Allura."

"Like it'll stay just Allura. I bet you anything within an hour everybody will know. Especially Lance."

She shrugs, then gives me an impish smile and makes an incongruously explicit hand gesture. "But then on the upside, we can schtup."

"God!" I laugh, and my face heats up. "You never stop, do you?"

Her smile has broadened into a grin. "It's not vulgar, it's Yiddish."

"It can be two things."

"Shut up, man, you want to do it as much as I do. Yiddish or not."

She's right, of course, but I'm not going to say it. I kiss her instead.

 


	8. From High Atop The Thing

_-Lance-_

 

"Is that a band-aid?" I say, suddenly noticing something on Pidge's back, in the area of her hip where her shirt rides up when she does a forward fold. I almost didn't see it, it's the same shade as her skin, but square and smooth and definitely not natural. I didn't think we even had band-aids out here, not with how the Alteans can just heal everything.

Pidge stands up slowly. "What? Where?"

"Your hip."

She grabs the hem of her shirt and tugs it down, spins around to face me, and she's already bright red. "I, uh. No, it's not a band-aid. It's... um." She swallows. "It's my contraceptive patch."

"Your _what?!_ " It pops out before I can control my reaction, and I immediately regret it.

Her face morphs from nervous to dangerous. "Birth control, Lance."

I glance at Shiro and Keith -- Keith looks startled, and Shiro looks carefully blank, which I'm positive means he already knew.

"How long have you been on birth control?" I say, which is definitely stupid.

Her eyebrows lower. "None of your fucking business."

"The Alteans made it for you?" I don't know why I'm still talking, this is a bad life choice.

"Of course they did, it's not like I can run down to CVS."

"That's pretty cool," Keith says, looking at her hip like he can see through the shirt. "So I guess it's, like, impossible for you to get pregnant now, right?"

Pidge's head whips around in horror. "What?!"

Keith looks a little frightened. "What do you mean, what?"

"You can't say that! You'll tempt the -- the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing!"

Shiro bursts out laughing, and Pidge scowls at him. Keith now looks frightened _and_ confused, and I'm feeling as baffled as he looks. "Wait, why can't I say it?"

"Wrath!" Pidge insists.

"From high atop the thing!" Shiro gasps, still laughing. Keith now looks even more perplexed, which I didn't think was possible.

"I'm so confused," I say, and Pidge turns to me with an infinitely put-upon look on her face.

"Tempting fate. If we get smug the ... the whatever will smite me. It'll fuck up the probability so I get screwed."

"Keith," Shiro says, trying to sound authoritative, though it's undermined by the fact that he can't catch his breath and has tears in his eyes, "you need to go outside, turn around three times, and spit."

"And curse," Pidge adds, and it seems like she said it automatically. Suddenly I realize I'm missing a reference.

"I need to what?"

"Turn around three times and spit," Shiro says.

"And curse," Pidge adds again, forcefully.

"You guys are quoting something, aren't you," I say.

Pidge ignores me, still glaring at Keith, and she points at the door. "Go! Turn! Curse and spit!"

"Ugh, fine!" He stomps to the door.

"Pidge is quoting Toby from _The West Wing_ ," Shiro says to me, as though that's an explanation.

"You know this makes you Josh," she says.

There's a percussive "Fuck!" from the hall, and Shiro starts laughing again. Pidge rolls her eyes and turns to me. "You know _The West Wing_ , right? TV show from the 1990s, political drama."

"Can't say I know it, sorry."

"Whatever, okay." She sighs, and she still sounds frustrated, though a bit calmer than before. "Matt really likes 90s TV so we used to watch it together."

"Matt is _completely_ obsessed with _The West Wing_ ," Shiro adds.

Pidge nods. "Anyway, Toby is ... he's my favorite, I guess. Him or CJ. And I'm not superstitious except about the things that Toby is superstitious about."

I raise one eyebrow at her. "The wrath of the whatever?"

"From high atop the thing, yes."

Keith comes back in, looking grouchy, and Hunk is behind him, clearly confused. "I missed something."

"Pidge is Toby Ziegler," Shiro says, still explaining nothing, and still clearly very amused with himself.

"They saw my patch," Pidge explains, her voice a bit lower than it has been, as though it's at all possible for anyone to have a private conversation around here.

Quiet fear blooms across Hunk's face. " _Auwe_ ... oh my god, so...."

"Yeah." She nods. "Everybody knows now."

Hunk covers his face with his hands, then takes a deep breath and drags them down. "Wow. Okay. So privacy is definitely not a thing on Team Voltron."

I can't help laughing. "You thought it _was_?"

"Shut up, Lance."

I bump his shoulder with my fist. "I'm sorry, dude, I'm just hassling you."

"I know." He sighs. "It's just weird to wake up and find out that my love life is suddenly public knowledge."

I glance at Pidge; she's blushing deeply, from her hairline all the way down her neck. Hunk is my best friend, so it's my solemn duty to give him a hard time, but I can't help feeling like we've upset Pidge more than we should have.

"That's rich, from you," Keith says to Hunk. "You're the nosiest of all of us."

Hunk frowns. "Maybe I'm a little bit of a hypocrite, but you all know now. Whether you wanted to or not."

But something about the way he says it, his tone -- I think maybe we _don't_ know. Or, what we think we know may not be true?

"Let's get to work," Shiro says, "since we're all here. Usual warmup, get moving."

No matter how many times we do this, I'm still not used to the idea of anything dryland as a warmup; I can always hear Coach Z in my head rattling off _eight by fifty on a minute, swim hard the last ten, and then do it again on forty-five seconds._ Not the same as what we do here by a long shot, especially since I still haven't figured out that damn Altean pool. I'd do anything to be able to swim some laps.

I keep half an eye on Hunk while we warm up, and he seems to be keeping half an eye on Pidge. She's all focus, but the look on his face confirms my suspicion -- he looks sort of wistful.

I don't think they've actually done it yet.

Hunk always overthinks everything, over-prepares, plus Pidge is something of a control freak, so I'm pretty sure that's what this is. They want to have intercourse, and I'm certain they're going to, since they got birth control worked out -- but they haven't actually gotten that far yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The West Wing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1tyiWP9MSk)


	9. Three Sigma

_-Hunk-_

 

After breakfast this morning, Pidge told me that she changed her contraceptive patch today. This makes the third one, which is when we'd arranged that we both felt comfortable that it was doing its thing. It's kind of hard to believe it's been an entire two weeks already, and it seems like she hasn't had any bad reaction to the artificial hormones, so this could actually work.

It was on my mind all day, to my embarrassment. I mean, at least nobody else knew, but I've never been the sort of guy who's _obsessed_ with sex. And it's not like what we can do now is that much different than what we've done already -- we've had lots of orgasms together, very satisfying ones. We've just never done it with our genitals actually touching and I don't know why that feels so different. Maybe I can justify it that I'm obsessed with Pidge herself, that I've never loved anyone the way I'm in love with her. It's not just sex, it's _never_ just sex.

Loving her doesn't stop me being nervous, though. I sort of want to bring up the condom conversation again, even though we've been through it in an excessively thorough way more than once. I'd feel a little better if we could use two methods of protection, especially since they're made by aliens who don't really understand human anatomy and physiology. We went with the synthetic progesterone in the end because Pidge was comfortable discussing that with Allura -- Pidge really doesn't have a lot of modesty about her body, which is refreshing, even if it's sometimes a little surprising. I couldn't bring myself to even rehearse in my mind a conversation with Coran about making something to wrap up my erect penis. Maybe someday Lance will do it. Maybe.

We all have some quiet time this afternoon, and Pidge finds me in my lion's hangar, cleaning the tools in my kit because I'm desperate to keep busy.

"Hey, you."

"Hey." I look up from my second-favorite spanner. She looks especially pretty today, something about her hair is really nice, it's particularly curly and shiny. "What's up?"

"Nothing." She shrugs and leans on the console. "Just thought I'd rather hang with you than anyone else."

I smile at her. "You're sweet."

"Don't tell Lance." She gives me a lopsided grin. "I, um. I did want to talk to you though. I feel like you've been ... sort of tense."

And sure enough, my shoulders tense up as soon as she says it. "How so?"

She makes an awkward noise and looks down at her shoes. "Since this morning. I get the feeling that you're having second thoughts about the fluid bonding thing."

My heart makes a leap for it, right up into my throat, and I have to swallow it back down. She hit the nail on the head. "Yeah, but I have second thoughts about literally _everything_. And third, and fourth."

"I know, I know." She sighs. "But I really don't want to pressure you about this. If you change your mind, we don't have to do it at all."

"I haven't changed my mind." I'm gripping the spanner a bit too tightly; I loosen my grip and stretch out my fingers. "I mean, I'd probably feel better about it if we had a second method of contraception, but I'm good with just your patches."

She nods. "I'd feel more safe if we had a backup too, but we don't strictly _need_ it. It would be overkill, the patches are three sigma. And if they do fail somehow, all of this tech would know immediately."

A smile and a little chuckle breaks through my anxiety. "Yeah, your suit would tell you if you were pregnant."

"Exactly. And when I talked with Allura before, we did come around to what we would do if that point-three percent happened. Apparently Alteans aren't really squeamish about that sort of thing. They can control their fertility to a degree, but sometimes mistakes happen. So we're covered, if it comes to it. No babies on Team Voltron."

She's told me that part before, but it's reassuring to hear it again. "I'm glad."

"Yeah." She scratches the back of her neck. "So, you think, tonight after dinner?  Give it a try?"

My mouth goes dry, and I try to swallow, try to tap back into the certainty that I know is inside me. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Pidge smiles, gentle and lovely. "Me too."

 


	10. Lost To Pleasure

_-Hunk-_

 

Pidge and I are both naked. Both completely naked, and sitting on my bed, and we're about to have intercourse and suddenly I'm not convinced that I'm ready.

"You okay?"

I look up at her, and I realize that I'm not breathing. I inhale a little too forcefully. "Kinda."

She reaches out like she's going to lay her hand on my knee, but stops just short. "Still nervous?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"Me too," she says. "A little bit."

"I wasn't nervous about other stuff."

"Yes you were." There's a gentle laugh in her voice, and a kind smile on her lips. "Every new thing we do, you're nervous at first. And so am I, and that's okay. It's only because it's new."

She's right; I try to smile, and I reach out and take her hand. "Yeah."

"I'm ready," she says, her voice low. "I've wanted this for a long time, and as soon as you're ready, I'm there. But if you're not up for it tonight, that's okay. We don't have to."

I swallow and nod, trying to calm the trembling in my chest. "I am ready. I mean, I know I am. But I can't help being nervous, you know that."

"I know." She shifts a little closer to me, casts her eyes down and moves her shoulders in a way that strikes me as intentionally sensual. I love the way the low light is throwing shadows on her skin, almost-hiding some of her spots.

She takes my hand gently in hers, and brings it to her mouth, kisses me on the fingertips, the palm, the wrist. Her touch is delightful, and my arousal comes on all at once, an exhilarating rush of it, banishing all but a memory of my shyness. My heart is still beating fast but now it feels _good_.

I lean in, crossing the last few inches to kiss her on her sweet, soft lips. "Ready?"

She nods quickly. "Yeah."

I scoot a little closer, and she leans back onto the bed, spreading her legs. My cock throbs -- I can barely believe that we're about to do this.

She reaches for me with both arms, and I lower myself over her, touching her with most of my body but being careful not to actually lean on her. I let my hips be the heaviest, but my cock is so eager that instead of falling between her legs it's pressed against her hip, rubbing in her pubic hair, which isn't what I want. I try lifting up, changing the angle -- there. She spreads her legs wide below me and _I'm touching her._ She's warm and slippery, and I don't think I'll be able to penetrate her without some manual assistance, but at least I can rub on her, get things started. I'm definitely ready to just go for it but I don't know if she needs a little more foreplay. And I can't deny I'm a little worried about how she'll take the size of me.

She's breathing deeply, watching my face, and her hips are pressing up into mine mostly in the same rhythm as I'm pressing into her. Then she wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me down, kissing me in a way that's fierce but sloppy, distracted; not being inside her is suddenly unbearable.

I lift up a bit, breaking the kiss, and as soon as I do she reaches down with both hands, takes my cock in one and seems to be touching herself with the other. She's got her eyes closed now, head tipped back and lips parted, and she guides my tip into her.

It's simultaneously exactly what I imagined, and nothing like it at all. She's so hot, and incredibly tight, and her breath is a little raspy; I hold myself up with my arms straight, as still as I can, because I know this could hurt her if we go too fast, and I really want her to take the lead, to show me what she wants. I can feel the fingers of her other hand moving, massaging herself, and as the seconds tick by she relaxes, guides me gradually deeper and deeper, until after a small eternity she finally takes her hands away and I press the last bit of distance on my own, skin on skin, firmly against her.

I look up, and she's watching me. "Okay?" I whisper.

"Yeah, good." She nods and licks her lips.

"Not too much?"

"Hah." The tiny laugh tenses her whole body, including the part that's wrapped around my cock, and my vision dims for a second with the pleasure of it. "It's ... um, it's a lot. It's good, though. I like it."

"Promise?"

"Promise." She smiles and touches my cheek. "Kiss me?"

I lower myself over her again, catch her lips with mine, though I can't really focus on that because _I'm inside her_ and she's moving gently, pressing up into me, wrapping her legs around my hips and the backs of my thighs.

I push myself up on my arms again and thrust into her, perhaps a bit harder than I meant to, but she groans and grabs my sides, so I've clearly done something right. I do it again, and so does she, and I don't think anything has ever felt this good. It's so easy to just keep moving, to let this become a rhythm, to fall into a trance of sensation.

But without focus, I start to lose myself, make a clumsy move and have to catch myself, at which point I look down at Pidge again. She's gasping and writhing beneath me, eyes half-closed, completely lost to pleasure. Her fingers tighten on me, digging into the flesh on my ribs; I wish I could press even deeper into her than I am, but this is as close as it's physically possible for us to be.

Well, maybe ...

I change my angle slightly, bend down, deciding not to mind that my belly is pressing into hers now. (I'm not going to crush her; she may be small but she's strong, she's not delicate.) It's contact, and it's exactly what I wanted, _exactly_. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and dip my face to the side of her neck, which is damp with sweat; the touch of my lips finds her skin salty and just a bit tangy. Her arms slide around my chest, holding me tighter, and she angles her hips up to meet me.

It's a little harder to move now, like this, but the tradeoff of touching her more is worth it. I thrust into her, firm and strong, and she makes the sexiest little _ungh_ noise in her throat.

"You like that?" I can barely form the words.

"Oh, fuck yes."

I thrust again, and she makes the noise again, and an erotic tingle rushes over my skin as the heat in my groin builds even further. The feel of her, of being inside her, wrapped up in her, is the sum total of everything I want at this moment. She's so hot and slick, and her legs are wrapped around me, her heels digging into the backs of my thighs, showing me that she wants me exactly where I am.

I've been trying to hold back, trying to resist thinking about how close I am -- but I can't any more, I need all of this, and I need it _right now_ , and as soon as I let go of my control I'm dizzy with lust, gasping for breath against Pidge's shoulder as she's gasping against mine. I know my climax is imminent, and I thrust into her frantically, drawing closer and closer until I arrive all at once and then I'm hurtling through it, riding out the sensations absolutely as far as they'll take me, not caring that I'm probably making sort of a lot of noise.

But as soon as I start to come down, start to try to relax, I'm aware of Pidge -- and she isn't relaxed at all.

"Hunk," she moans, sounding desperate. "Please, I have to -- I'm so close..."

She's pushing at the side of my belly, trying to get her hand between us -- she wants to touch her clitoris, I think she needs that to be able to come, and with an effort I pick myself up, suck in my gut a little so she can reach down to where we're connected.

She twitches like she's been electrified, throwing her head backwards with a startled gasp, and then she continues gasping, her whole body convulsing as her orgasm overtakes her. I'm still inside her, a little bit -- I'm trying very hard not to slip out -- and I feel her clenching around me, and it's incredible but also I'm spent and over-sensitive right now so I know it'll be a lot better if next time she comes before I do.

When I can tell she's coming down, I lower myself over her again, trapping her wrist between us, and I kiss her gently.  She kisses back sloppily, moaning, still distracted; I deepen the kiss.  Her contented sigh is a life-giving breath, directly into me.  It's almost more than I can take.

After a long minute she runs her free hand up my back and then down again, and gives my butt a little squeeze. "Okay, get off now please."

"Oh!" I lift up as fast as I can, and her right arm pops free. "I'm so sorry, was I too heavy?"

"No, I'm just starting to overheat." She wiggles out from under me, pulls her leg free and gives me space to lie down beside her. "You weren't too heavy. It was great."

I let myself sink into the mattress, and I'm feeling a little boneless in the best possible way. "That was amazing."

"Yeah." She turns on her side and kisses me. "To be honest, I wasn't expecting much for our first time, but ... yeah, it was amazing."

"I want you to come first next time."

She giggles. "I won't say no to that."

_God,_ she's so beautiful, so perfect. I wrap both arms around her, not caring that we're both sticky. "I love you so much."

She breathes my name and snakes her arms around my neck, kisses me again, again, again. "I love you too."

 


	11. Almost Rough

_-Pidge-_

 

Rosh Hashanah is coming up in two weeks. Everyone's starting to plan things; for some reason the Jewish new year has become the one we celebrate here in the Castle. It seems weird to me, but I'm not complaining. I guess they liked Hunk's matzo ball soup so much last year, maybe they're looking for a reason to get him to make it again. I know I'm eager for it, and I'm hoping to convince him to try his hand at challah too.

It's been almost a year and a half now since the first time that Hunk kissed me, according to the calendar on my phone. The passage of time out here is strange, it feels; I don't think it's due to relativity or anything, just that our lives are so intense, our mission constantly cycling between life-and-death and nothing happening at all. But I still track the weeks of my cycle, even though they're different now I'm on the patch. It helps me keep a handle on time.

It was two months ago that Hunk asked me to move in with him. I said yes immediately; I've wanted to ask him for a while but had this notion that I ought to work out the logistics first. We really need a bigger space, with a bigger bed -- we've had quite a few sleepovers in our single bunks but it's never really comfortable.

I told him that, and he laughed and kissed me and said that he already talked to Allura about it (apparently they regularly just sit down and chat over hot drinks?) and it's not like there isn't a space in the castle for us. There are rooms, plenty of them that are big enough, it's just they've been mothballed and need to be prepared for habitation.

So we picked one out, and then we got to work on it. It was mostly cleaning, though that was no small task, and we had to fit it in around missions and everything.

But today it's finally done. Move-in ready. After morning training and lunch we gathered up our things from our old rooms and and brought them to our new one.

Even though we've spent quite a bit of time in here over the last several weeks getting it ready, it feels different. It's quiet now, it feels private -- and it feels like I want to break it in right away.

When I tell Hunk, he gets a delicious grin on his face and I'm immediately wet even before he pulls me to him and starts removing my clothes, eager and powerful and very, very masculine. I'm so insanely aroused that I almost feel weak with it. He's normally so gentle, when he does use his strength in our lovemaking it's exciting and different, and I can't deny that I love it when he's a little forceful with me.

When we're both naked he turns me around in a way that's almost rough, crowds me up against the wall, next to the door to our bathroom. He grabs my hips firmly with both hands before he leans down to whisper into the hair behind my ear: "Is this what you want?"

I'm so turned on I can't even speak; I make a noise that's really more of a whine than anything else and try to press back into him, but he's so strong, and so tall, I can't get anything except what he gives me.

And I am very lucky, because he doesn't tease for long. One of his hands lets go of me to brace on the wall beside my head, and I feel him crouching, lowering himself over me, finally letting me feel the touch of his skin. The hand on my hip slides around to my belly, pressing my ass back against him, and he lets go of the wall with the other hand to ghost it across my breasts, hanging heavy in the chilly air, only barely brushing my nipples before he settles his palm around one breast and gives it a firm squeeze. I arch my back, dying for more.

He moves his hips, rocking very slightly, backwards and forwards. His hand is strong, low on my abdomen, holding my hips steady, and his belly is warm where it presses against the small of my back. He slides his cock between my legs, not penetrating me -- not yet -- but spreading my moisture around, rubbing lightly and deliciously over my clit.

I want him inside me so badly -- the wanting is physical, my cunt is aching for him to fill me, throbbing with desire. I turn my head back towards him, and he kisses my cheek, the corner of my mouth. "Please," I gasp.

The hand on my breast gives me one more caress, and then he raises it to my face, turning me just enough more that he can capture my lips with his. "You sure?"

" _Please._ "

"'Kay." He kisses me again, then lets go of my jaw and moves slightly back, rests his hand on my flank. "I, um," he murmurs. "I don't know if I'll line this up right."

"Okay, I can...." I shift my weight so I can hold myself up with just one arm against the wall, and I feel him shifting too, reaching down between us as I do the same from my front. I arch my back and let my eyes close to focus on the sensation, stretch my hand all the way down. He's pointing his cock slightly upwards, but it's too far forward -- I touch the head, nudging it gently back, just far enough. "There."

His breath puffs warm and humid on the side of my neck as he pushes into me a few centimeters, and god, he's so _big_ , filling me with only the tip. It would be uncomfortable if I didn't want him so fucking badly.

His pubic hair is prickly against my ass, and the warmth of his body covers me all the way up to my shoulders -- though it's very hard to pay attention to anything in the universe besides the head of his cock sliding torturously slowly against my g-spot. It makes my legs weak, like I might collapse if he wasn't still supporting my core with his hand. As it is I tremble for a moment, squeeze around him because it's impossible not to.

"Oh my god, Pidge," he sighs.

"Holy fuck," is the best I can do, and when he grinds into me I'm reduced to a moan. I want to ask if he can go any deeper, but speaking is beyond me at the moment. I brace both arms against the wall and push back into him.

He keeps moving, gentle and slow, careful not to pull out so much that he slips out; it's tricky when the penetration is so shallow, it turns out. But like this it means that every motion is hitting me exactly where I want to be hit, and I'm feeling that build toward my climax even without my clit being touched. It's a slow build, to be sure, but I get the sense that it's undeniable, unstoppable, and the anticipation is leaving me as breathless as the sensation itself.

And then there's the way he's holding me all through this, firm and strong and warm and so possessive, so loving. As much as I liked it a minute ago when he was being sort of rough, this is exactly him, this is the Hunk I'm in love with, and in doing this right now, _making love_ is so much more than just a euphemism. I can feel his devotion expressed through every cell of his body.

The beginning of my orgasm is very nearly agony, it's so good. I feel like I'm falling, collapsing to the ground, but Hunk keeps holding me up, keeps moving inside me so perfectly, and by the time I come out the other side I'm a little surprised to find I've actually been sobbing. My eyes are wet with tears and I feel wrung out.

I shift my weight forward, pressing my cheek against the wall and my ass back into his groin. I glance over my shoulder in time to see him dip his head, eyes closed and hands like a vice grip on my hips as he finally takes for himself what he's already given me.

I'm still so sensitive that his rough thrusting is very nearly as pleasurable as the orgasm I just had, and just as soon as it starts to be too much he gasps, groans, presses his forehead into my shoulder and a few moments later I feel squishy, and that change of texture, coupled with the knowledge that he's coming _right now_ , is enough to push me over the edge again with a raw shout.

Hunk is leaning on me, breathing heavily and holding me with his arms wrapped completely around my body. I want to stay like this forever but my quads are starting to feel worryingly weak, so I start to stand up. He takes the hint, lifts himself and slips out of me, and stumbles backwards to sit on the bed -- _our_ bed.

I turn myself around and then use the wall to push myself up to standing, before I cross the space to Hunk in a couple of steps and let my legs finally stop trying so hard. He flops backwards across the mattress, and I crawl up next to him on my side, trying not to get any mess on the fresh sheets since we've only been here in our new room for twenty minutes.

He twists and sets his hand on my shoulder, warm and firm, and that's when I notice that I'm shaking. "Are you okay?" he whispers.

I nod, but then I realize that's not true; I feel really weird and I don't know why. The sex was good -- the sex was _amazing_ \-- but I'm sort of upset right now, inexplicably. I try again, and I shake my head.

He slides his hand across my shoulders and down my back. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No," I say quickly, though I'm choked up. "You didn't hurt me. I don't know what's wrong, I just feel ... weird. It was really intense."

"Do you want me to hold you?"

"Yes." I'm tearing up as I say it, and he wraps his arms tightly around me.

Apparently his touch is what I was starved for. A little flood of tears drips down my face, and the tension in my chest releases all at once. "I love you," I gasp.

"Oh, Pidge," he breathes, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. "I love you too. So much."

Hearing him say that is the punctuation I needed, the conclusion to all of this. I take a deep breath, feeling suddenly much better. This room is absolutely ours now, mine and his; it's our little sanctuary out here where we can just be us, together.

 


	12. Somewhere, Now

_-Hunk-_

 

It's our first night in our new room, and it's been absolutely lovely so far. We've already made love here -- twice actually, once before dinner and once after, and the double-wide bed is _so_ much better than the cots in the single rooms. Plus, we have, like, a real actual window, set above the headboard of the bed and spanning the full width of the wall. It'll never let in any light but dim starlight, but I love it already.

We're back in bed again now, still mostly naked but all cleaned up, and not yet ready to sleep. Pidge is working on some sort of program on her tablet; she's tried to explain it to me but it's really technical and not in a direction in which I have any proficiency. And it's apparently without physical application, more of a theoretical exercise, so I'm just letting her have her fun with it instead of putting in the effort to understand.

I had been reading a book, a translation of Altean mythology that Allura gave me. It's interesting stuff, engaging, but I got to the end of a section and Pidge being right here next to me became a lot more interesting.

So now I'm enjoying watching Pidge debug her program, the pale blue glow of the screen illuminating her skin, the angles making her look ethereal, almost alien. And yet, despite this intimidating otherworldly beauty, this obviously brilliant intelligence lying next to me, I'm the most comfortable I've ever been. Like this is really home now, now that I have my own little space with her. We actually have somewhere, now. "Pidge?"

"Uh-huh?" She doesn't look up from her screen, and she frowns slightly at something.

"What color are your eyes?"

She looks up then, like I knew she would, and turns to me in surprise and confusion. "What? You're looking at me right now, you can't tell? You don't _know?_ "

I shrug, trying to play cool. "If I knew I wouldn't have to ask."

She stares for another moment before realization hits her. "Hunk, are you -- are you colorblind?"

"Yeah. What color are your eyes? Are they green?"

It takes her a moment to find her voice. "No. No, I -- they're brown."

The disappointment is unexpectedly sharp; they look the same color as her lion to me, and I had hoped she'd have some kind of genetic connection with it that I just can't see, something marking her as extra-special. "Oh. Like, light brown?"

"Yeah. Maybe sort of hazel in the sun."

"Hazel?"

"Oh, right. Um, hazel is like, lightish brown with little bits of green and gold in it."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." I reach out and brush a wild lock of hair behind her ear -- I know her hair is light brown, though I don't remember when I found that out. "I thought maybe all of our eye colors matched our lions. The only one I can really tell is Lance, though."

"So you can see blue?"

"Yeah. It's definitely my best color, I get it wrong less than anything else."

She shakes her head. "How did I not know you're colorblind?"

I shrug. "It comes up less than you might think."

"But you're an engineer, how do you deal with that?"

"I get by. I can see some colors, and context clues go a long way."

"What about, like, reading resistors?"

I chuckle. "Pidge, I'm disappointed. You of all people should know there's an app for that."

She smiles, but then her expression turns a little sad. "You never said anything all of those times that I've color-coded things."

"It wasn't important."

"Maybe it would have been to me." She finally sets the tablet down and turns off the screen. "I did a lot of that for you."

"No you didn't, you did it because you like it."

She rolls her eyes, and seems to relax. "Well, okay. But I wanted you to be impressed by it."

"I was; I am. I'm always impressed by the work you do, even if I can't fully appreciate it. That goes for things besides colors, too."

She shifts a bit lower, so she's closer to me. "You're just being nice. You're pretty much as good as me."

"Pidge, come on. You're a genius. You're _my_ genius, and you're constantly amazing."

"You are too, though." She rolls over towards me, and the tablet tips off her hip into the blanket valley between us. "You can do all sorts of shit that I couldn't _begin_ to do."

"Almost like we're made for each other, huh?"

That gets her to crack a lopsided smile. "Almost."

 


End file.
